


Not Asking for a Miracle

by haligh24



Series: Salvation [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canon compliant-ish, F/F, Pining, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haligh24/pseuds/haligh24
Summary: The thing about Beau that most people don't realize is that she's actually kind of sweet. She can be gruff and grumpy and she doesn't know how to show it, but it's hard to miss how soft Beau can be once you know what you're looking for. Not that Yasha's much better at expressing herself, really, but maybe that's why she can see it so easily.





	Not Asking for a Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Back on my bullshit because this campaign just keeps getting gayer somehow. This one is sort of a prequel to the events of [This is How it Goes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051970) from Yasha's perspective. Title taken from "Miracle" by CHVRCHES because it is an absolutely perfect Yasha song. Shout out to Caleb/Liam for being the #1 shipper. Also, I wrote this a few weeks ago, so you have to kind of squint your eyes if you're looking for something canon compliant.

The thing about Beau that most people don't realize is that she's actually kind of sweet. She can be gruff and grumpy and she doesn't know how to show it, but it's hard to miss how soft Beau can be once you know what you're looking for. Not that Yasha's much better at expressing herself, really, but maybe that's why she can see it so easily.

 

Yasha noticed Beau's kindness almost right from the start. The way she gets so gentle when she asks Yasha questions about her past, like she doesn't want to spook her. The way her mistakes eat away at her until she can set them right. The way she'll do whatever it takes to help her friends. It's clear to Yasha that Beau's just _good_ , no matter what anyone else thinks - no matter what Beau thinks. It's one of the things Yasha likes best about her.

 

Yasha’s reminded of it one crisp morning as she treks through the woods to gather a few more flowers for her ever growing collection. She had risen early, just before the sun, and assumed the rest of the Mighty Nein were still sleeping soundly. A flash of blue in a clearing up ahead, however, tips her off that she's not the only one awake - blue usually means Beau.

 

She notices Kiri's small black form a moment later and, curious, Yasha creeps closer to the edge of the clearing. Whatever Beau and Kiri are up to must be important, because neither of them notice when Yasha's large feet accidentally snap a few twigs. Yasha steps behind a tree for cover while she watches them.

 

"Can you just, like, drop that blade for a minute?" Beau asks, backing away from the little Kenku as she thrusts her dagger forward.

 

"I’m very sweet," Kiri replies mid-strike, Jester's accent ringing out clearly.

 

"Yeah, I know, but it’s a little disconcerting to hear you say that while taking a swipe at me."

 

Kiri lowers her arm, her beak clicking together a bit as she tilts her head from side to side.

 

"I wanna teach you how to protect yourself," Kiri says after a moment, mimicking the low timbre of Beau's voice.

 

"What? That's not - I don’t sound like that," Beau sputters, "And anyway I meant, like, what if we are in a fight and you don’t have your blade?"

 

Kiri looks down at the dagger in her hand.

 

"We tend to get into a lot of bullshit; who knows what could happen," Beau continues, stepping closer now that Kiri is no longer waving the sharp weapon around.

 

Kiri nods, clicking her beak.

 

"You’re very small, and I kind of, you know, I like you," Beau says, looking down as she kicks at some rocks with her toe, "And I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay?"

 

"Very small," Kiri agrees.

 

"Okay, great. I’m just gonna show you a few basic things," Beau tells her, "First things first, you have to use your natural advantages. Like I said - you’re small, plus you can fly, so you should always try to hide or get away before you engage with an enemy."

 

Kiri looks at her blade again, cooing mournfully.

 

"You know, sharp weapons and brute strength aren’t everything," Beau offers.

 

Yasha frowns from her hiding spot. Is that what Beau thinks of her?

 

"Though, you know, depending on the person," Beau is quick to continue, "Sometimes those things can be awesome."

 

Kiri agrees excitedly, puffing her feathers up and expanding her wings to their full span.

 

"Raaaage," she bellows in a voice that Yasha recognizes as her own.

 

"Yeah, she's pretty great, huh?" Beau says, scratching at the back of her head. And is Beau blushing? Yasha's several feet away, so it's hard to tell, but her chest aches just the same.

 

"But," Beau says, clearing her throat, "She’s a lot bigger than you, so we have to figure out what kind of fighting is more suited for you."

 

Kiri nods resolutely, cooing and clicking her beak as she sheaths the blade.

 

Beau spends the better part of the next hour teaching Kiri how to use her size and speed to her advantage in a fight. She's patient and clear and she stops every few minutes to tell Kiri how well she's doing. Yasha gets comfortable leaning against the tree and has trouble keeping a smile off her face.

 

Just as Kiri is finishing a series of wing attacks, Jester comes skipping out from another patch of trees. Beau's focus is pulled and she ends up taking a whack upside the head.

 

"Oww, damn," she hisses, but recovers quickly, adding, "Good job, Kiri."

 

"There you two are," Jester says as she walks up, "It's almost time to get going. What are you doing?"

 

"Nothing," Beau says quickly, rubbing the side of her jaw where Kiri's wing impacted.

 

"I wanna teach you how to protect yourself," Kiri mimics once more.

 

"Oh, yeah, well Kiri was asking about fighting and I had some free time, so I figured I'd show her some stuff," Beau explains.

 

Kiri bristles and clicks her beak before speaking in Beau's voice again.

 

"You're very small," she says, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

 

"Damnit Kiri," Beau says, jumping up to her feet in one swift movement, "I take it all back."

 

Jester just grins like someone handed her a dozen fresh pastries and asks, "Is Yasha with you guys, too?"

 

"Yasha?" Beau repeats, whipping around to look at the edges of the clearing, "No, I haven't seen her this morning."

 

Yasha reflexively inches further behind the tree.

 

"She's pretty great," Kiri chimes in with Beau's earlier words.

 

Beau growls, actually _growls_ , and throws her hands up in the air.

 

"This is the thanks I get for trying to be nice," she huffs as she stomps off toward the edge of the clearing, thankfully in the opposite direction of Yasha.

 

"No, wait, Beau come back," Jester calls after her, laughing, "I want to hear more about how great Yasha is!"

 

"Fuck off," Beau snarls without turning.

 

"Go fuck yourself," Kiri cheerfully replies as she shakes out her feathers.

 

Yasha has to bite her lip to stop from laughing out loud.

 

And that's another thing she likes about Beau - she makes Yasha laugh. Yasha had gotten used to not laughing, not ever, and the first few times it happened after meeting her new companions it felt foreign. Wrong. Like her eyes weren’t supposed to crinkle that way and her lips weren't meant to twist in that direction. But it turns out laughing, or even just smiling, is addicting.

 

If Yasha were a different type of person, she might even try to talk more, to seek out the weightless feeling she now associates with laughter. But Yasha's never exactly been eloquent, and people around here talk different than she’s used to. Faster. The first time they met, Yasha's tongue felt too big for her mouth. It still feels like that sometimes, so she’s content to let Beau ramble enough for both of them. And Yasha can't help it if Beau happens to ramble in the most endearing ways.

 

But it's inconvenient - the laughing and the smiling and the _feeling_ \- to say the least. It’s a terrible idea for a lot of reasons, not the most insignificant of which that she kind of owes a God her entire life. And on a more practical level, Yasha has no idea what to do in a relationship. After everything happened, she became somewhat self-destructive, even sleeping with a few people just to see if she could still feel something. Not exactly what you would call relationship material. And before… well, she was a different person before. There’s no use thinking about that.

 

It's hard _not_ to think about it, though - how things could be. Or could've been. Especially as she spends more and more time with Beau, even when she tries to avoid it. They always just seem to end up together, and it happens again late one stormy night after a long and drawn out fight with a pack of ogres. There are only three rooms left in the inn, which Caleb, of all people, has purchased. He hesitates with the keys in his hand.

 

"I don't need a room," Yasha tells him before turning toward the bar for a nightcap.

 

“Sure you do,” Caleb replies, halting her with a gentle tap on her arm.

 

“It's fine."

 

“It's not fine - it’s terrible out there,” Beau counters, stepping closer, “And today was rough.”

 

“Yes, exactly,” Caleb agrees with Beau before Yasha can insist, “You can stay with Beauregard. Jester will bunk up with Nott and I, and Molly and Fjord can take the last room.”

 

Yasha looks between them for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

 

“I don’t want to disrupt anything,” she explains, “I know I’m not usually around when you stay the night somewhere.”

 

“Nonsense,” Caleb says, his voice kind, “You're part of the Mighty Nein, you get a room.”

 

“If you're sure,” Yasha says it quietly, directs it at Beau in an attempt to give her an out if she wants one.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Beau replies quickly and then clears her throat, “I mean, yeah. Yes. No problem at all. Mi casa es su casa.”

 

“Okay,” Yasha says with a confused frown, “So, I can stay with you?”

 

Sometimes Yasha's really not sure what Beau is talking about, so it’s best to confirm things.

 

“Yes,” Beau responds firmly with a few head nods thrown in for good measure.

 

Caleb yawns just a moment later, a gesture so ridiculously exaggerated that Yasha can feel her cheeks going pink. She shoots a glare in his direction, but he either doesn't see it or he chooses to ignore her as he turns to the rest of the party.

 

“Well, I'm beat," he announces, "I think it's time for bed."

 

He nudges Jester with his elbow and she snaps to action with a melodramatic stretch of her limbs.

 

"Oh yes, so tired," Jester agrees with a yawn to rival Caleb's, "Come on, Nott."

 

The group starts to meander away, but Molly keeps glancing back longingly toward the bar. Fjord clasps a big hand on the tiefling's shoulder and leads him toward the staircase. As they're walking away, Yasha can just barely make out Fjord's whispered promise that Molly can use Nott's flask when they get upstairs. Yasha's face flashes hot once more, and she wonders absently if praying to the Stormlord for the ground to open up around her would be an abuse of power.

 

She turns back to face Beau; the other woman is studying her silently. Yasha swallows thickly before speaking again.

 

"Are you - " she begins.

 

"Wanna - " Beau speaks at the same time.

 

They both pause and somehow the bustling tavern is quiet enough that Yasha can hear the pounding of her own pulse.

 

"Sorry," Beau offers finally.

 

"What were you going to say?" Yasha asks.

 

"I was gonna see if you wanted to grab a drink before bed," Beau replies, looking uncharacteristically shy, "But if you're tired…"

 

She trails off and scratches at the back of her head, where the tiny shaved hairs have grown out into a soft looking fuzz. Yasha wonders absently if Beau would like for her to help her shave, now that she's seen what she can do on Caleb.

 

"A drink sounds good," Yasha says with a nod.

 

Beau smiles just a little - just enough to make Yasha's heart hammer harder and higher in her throat - and leads Yasha over to the bar. She orders and pays for their drinks, some fortified wine that Yasha has never heard of before. It's rich and sweet, and after just a few sips her body feels looser than it has in days.

 

"That was a good move before," Beau says after they've settled in at the bar, "With your sword, I mean."

 

Yasha assumes Beau is referring to the way she eviscerated one of the ogres with a single swing.

 

"Oh, I," she struggles to find her words, "Thank you. He had already taken quite a lot of damage; I just finished him off."

 

"Still," Beau says, "Impressive. Where did you learn to fight, anyway? I don't think we've ever talked about it."

 

 _Nowhere good,_ Yasha thinks as she looks down into her wine. She swirls it around her glass and tries to think of a better answer.

 

"We don't have to talk about it now, either," Beau adds.

 

"Sorry," Yasha looks up, "It's just - I'm not sure how to - It's a long story."

 

"And it's a little late to start it now," Beau agrees and takes a sip of her wine, "Maybe another time?"

 

Yasha nods and finishes her wine in one long swig. Beau responds in kind and pushes herself out of the barstool.

 

"Ready?" Beau asks.

 

Yasha has half a mind to politely decline and stay down at the bar until Beau is asleep. Or perhaps until morning. But there's an openness in Beau's eyes that she can't bear to squash, so she nods again.

 

"Thank you for the drink," Yasha says as they make their way back through the tavern, "It was very nice. I wouldn't have ordered it, but I'm glad you did."

 

"Yeah, well, an understanding of wine was just about the only good thing my dad ever gave me, so," Beau says with a shrug, "You're welcome."

 

Yasha frowns, familiar anger trickling through her veins as she thinks about Beau's father. She doesn't know much about him, but she hates him all the same. She tries to think of comforting words for Beau, but none seem right in her head. They make it to the room before she has a chance to say anything at all.

 

Beau unlocks the door for them and gestures Yasha in before following behind her. They take a few moments bustling around the room as they set their things down, and Yasha ignites a small lantern. She turns to find Beau looking at her, _again,_ and the way the firelight is flickering across Beau's face, and the rain is tapping on the window, and just _everything_ overwhelms Yasha. It makes her want to say, "Fuck it," and grab Beau and kiss her endlessly.

 

She doesn’t though. She can’t. Instead Yasha grits her teeth and breaks their eye contact. She shrugs off her cloak and sets it down in the warmest looking corner of the room. She sits, curling her long legs up as close to her torso as she can.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"It's late," Yasha answers without looking up, "I'm tired."

 

"Yeah, me too, but what are you doing on the floor?" Beau asks.

 

"Oh, I just thought you should take the bed. I don't mind the floor at all."

 

As Yasha answers, she leans her shoulder against the wall. It's not so bad, really.

 

"We can both fit."

 

"Oh, I," Yasha hesitates, "No, that's ok."

 

Beau doesn't say anything for a few long moments. When she does speak again, her voice is soft. Hushed, almost.

 

"Yasha," she asks, "Do you feel like you don't deserve a bed?"

 

The question jolts inside Yasha, triggers something in her chest. A hiccup, sort of, but not quite. She looks down into her lap.

 

"I," Yasha falters, "It's not that."

 

But it kind of is that. Kind of exactly that.

 

Yasha focuses on the rhythmic pattern of the rainfall as she smooths out imaginary creases on her leathers and avoids Beau's eyes. She can feel the other woman's stare bore into her, like if she just looks hard enough she'll be able to see what Yasha isn't saying.

 

"Then is it," Beau says, her voice still small, "Is it me?"

 

"No," Yasha is quick to disagree. She looks up.

 

"It’s just," she continues, "There’s only one bed, and there are two of us. You should have it."

 

"The bed isn't that small," Beau says with a sigh, "Listen, I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to do, okay? But we’ve had a long few days, and you deserve to sleep somewhere softer than that floor."

 

Yasha's not sure what to say, so she just nods and looks back down at her legs. Beau sighs again, even deeper this time, and Yasha hears the rustling of bedding. She swallows thickly. It feels like she's ruined something, and she wants desperately to make it better. This doesn't have to be a big deal, does it? She can just sleep, like a normal person.

 

"I haven’t slept in a bed in a long time," Yasha offers finally, "But I will try."

 

Beau doesn't respond, just shifts over to make even more room on the opposite side of the bed. Yasha takes her time pulling off her boots and removing a few braids from her wild hair before standing and walking across the room. She allows herself one more deep breath, a futile attempt to steady her nerves, and crawls into bed as delicately as she can.

 

Yasha keeps close to the edge, facing away from Beau, and tries to relax. She's not sure how long she lays there - not moving, barely breathing - but it feels like hours pass with her body coiled as tight as a spring.

 

"Yasha," Beau whispers, but the sound gives Yasha a start just the same, "Are you still awake?"

 

"Yes," she answers.

 

"You know, if you ever want to talk - I’m here. Anytime."

 

Yasha bites down on the inside of her cheek so hard she tastes blood.

 

"Thank you."

 

There's that fucking kindness again. And, for once, Yasha doesn't want anything to do with it.

 

She lays there, unsleeping, for a few more agonizing hours. At the first hint of dawn's pink light through the window, Yasha holds her breath and slides out of bed. She glances back down at Beau, and thankfully the other woman still looks sound asleep. Her mouth is open, just a little, and she's somehow gotten a blanket tangled up tightly around her form.

 

Yasha tamps down both the urge to fix the bedding and the affection for Beau she feels swelling up in her chest. Instead, she gathers her things and slips out the door without a sound, almost running headlong into Caleb.

 

"Yasha, good morning. Did you sleep well?" Caleb asks with a slight smile as he shifts backward and out of her way.

 

Yasha pauses and narrows her eyes at him. Why is Caleb loitering outside her room, and smiling, and looking at her like that? Especially at this hour? It's strange.

 

"What are you playing at?" Yasha asks, her voice low.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Yasha's not sure if it's the lack of sleep or the stupid grin on Caleb's face, but suddenly she feels white hot anger pulsing at the base of her skull. She doesn't quite fly into a blind rage, but it's close. She drops her boots and other belongings, and backs Caleb up against the wall of the hallway.

 

"Why are you messing with us? With me?" She asks, grabbing the collar of his coat, "I thought we were friends."

 

"We are," Caleb sputters, his eyes wide with shock, "Of course, we are."

 

"Then why did you set this up last night, with Beau? Are you trying to embarrass me?" Yasha growls, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice.

 

"Embarrass? No," Caleb shakes his head, "I wouldn't… Look, even if we weren't friends, which we _are_ , I wouldn't want to make an enemy out of either of you. You could literally squash me, and Beauregard could probably stop my heart with a single strike."

 

Yasha loosens her grip, considering his words.

 

"If I'm mistaken about what I've seen between the two of you, my apologies," Caleb continues, "I just thought - Well, I hoped maybe I could help bring a little bit of joy into this bleak world."

 

At that, Yasha lets go of Caleb altogether. She takes a quick step back and turns away.

 

"Am I that obvious?" Yasha whispers to herself as she tries to massage away the headache that's suddenly taken up residence behind her eyes.

 

She doesn't say it as quietly as she meant to, because Caleb responds a second later.

 

"Not as obvious as Beauregard."

 

Yasha's gaze snaps back to Caleb. He's still smiling, just a little, but it's softer. Sadder.

 

"No," Yasha tells him, "She doesn't have feelings for me. She can't."

 

Caleb opens his mouth to respond, but Yasha won't give him the chance. She scoops up the pile of her belongings on the floor and flees down the hall with long strides.

 

Yasha stays away from the group for some time after that.

 

When she does come back, she's afraid to look Beau in the eyes. She knows that she's probably making things worse, but she has no idea what to do or say. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it), she doesn't have to worry about it for too long, because life with the Mighty Nein is nothing if not interesting.

 

The fight isn't bad, as far as fights go - just a few random owlbears they encounter along the trail. But while Yasha was gone she didn't get up to much of anything at all, so the chance to stretch her limbs and work out her aggression feels almost comforting.

 

And whenever Yasha isn't actively engaged in combat, she finds her gaze pulled toward streaks of blue, toward Beau. There's a recklessness in the monk, in the way she fights, that Yasha understands. And Yasha knows why _she_ fights impulsively with her own body, but seeing the same behavior in Beau makes her insides ache.

 

With her kind heart and her rambling words, Beau is the best person Yasha's ever met. A light emanates from her, from the depths of her soul, and Yasha can't help but be drawn to it. A person like that should take every precaution to protect herself against the terrible things in the world. Beau doesn't, though, and it's clear as day in the way she catapults herself headfirst at every enemy they face.

 

So Yasha will do her best to keep Beau safe. She'll watch, and she'll laugh, and she'll _feel_ \- but she'll do it all from a distance. It's the only way to be absolutely sure that nothing, not even Yasha - _especially_ not Yasha - will break Beau down. 


End file.
